


doesn't mean three isn't better

by wonthetrade



Series: and to change my prince often [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, Rule 63, Smut, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6878428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonthetrade/pseuds/wonthetrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor and Jordan are just a <i>little</i> jealous that the Oilers took Ryan dress shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	doesn't mean three isn't better

**Author's Note:**

> What will be a kind of extended scene from a fic spawned due to a lot of headcanon screaming and [this ficlet](http://wonthetrade.tumblr.com/post/144014620345/the-safest-place-on-earth)
> 
> If you googled yourself or someone you know, seriously, trust me, you want to run away really fast. 
> 
> For Jo, who is a) the best co-writer a girl could ask for; b) deserves all of the kid!line smut for 4 hour layovers in foreign countries and c) is defending her PhD on Friday so SEND GOOD VIBES.

Jordan and Taylor are sprawled over the couch when she gets home from shopping for her wedding dress with the team. They both look up as Ryan tosses her keys into the bowl by the door. Taylor’s the first one to come and greet her. 

“I do not approve of kidnapping my wife-to-be.” Because Taylor’s been getting a kick of out making every possible reference to the fact that they’re getting married. Not that she begrudges him for it. 

“I didn’t either,” Ryan answers wrapping her arms around his waist and tilting her head up for an easy kiss. She hums when Jordan’s fingers slide over her shoulder, breaks away from Taylor to offer Jordan her mouth. “They took me dress shopping,” she murmurs against Jordan’s lips.

Taylor makes an indignant noise. “With out us?”

“We can’t go, you non. Can’t see Nuge in her dress before the wedding.” 

“I have pictures?” she offers when Taylor continues to pout. His face lights up and she digs in her pocket for her phone.

Jordan immediately waves his hands. “No way. We can’t!”

Ryan laughs and pulls out her phone. “I didn’t pick any of them,” she offers. “You won’t be seeing my actual dress.”

“But you might.” 

Ryan can tell when Jordan’s just arguing for appearances’ sake and shakes her head. “Trust me. I love the guys, but there wasn’t a single dress I wanted to get married in.”

Taylor’s got his chin hooked over her shoulder a moment later, arms wrapped around her middle and Ryan knows it’s only a matter of time before Jordan’s there too. He can never resist them curled up together like this and Ryan’s pretty sure he’s only putting up a front. Still, it takes Taylor gasping at the first photo for Jordan to press up against her other side. 

“Ryan,” Jordan breaths and she grins down at her phone despite herself. 

“It’s not… perfect,” Taylor says, even as his hands squeeze tight. “But… Jesus, Ryan, you’re beautiful.”

She blushes. It gets her at the oddest times, these moments where the compliments are raw and real and have less to do with how silky her hands are on the ice and more about the satin feel of her skin. She feels the press of Taylor’s mouth just above the collar of her shirt and absently reaches for Jordan. He wraps her up, and from the way Taylor shivers, gets his hands on Taylor too.  

“You are,” Jordan murmurs into the side of her head. “Fucking gorgeous. You’re going to kill us both when you find your dress.”

She turns into Jordan, tips her face back for him. He obliges and she hums, reaching up to cup his cheek. The kiss gets out of hand quickly and she hears Taylor groan.

“Fuck that, the two of you are going to kill me.”

Ryan breaks away panting, offering him a smile before Jordan ducks down and presses kisses along her neck. Her eyes flutter closed as she arches her neck to give him space to work. “You just had me this morning.”

Taylor had, anyway. Jordan had complained when he caught them in the afterglow, coffee already prepped and breakfast on a tray. Taylor had fixed that too.

So, predictably: “I didn’t,” Jordan says and turns her into him more completely. “And you’ve been gone all day.”

“Now who’s greedy,” she says in amusement, but obligingly wraps her arms around his neck when his hands trail down to her ass. He lifts her and she laughs, wedding dresses forgotten as Jordan carries her to their bedroom, Taylor following at a more sedate pace. Ryan uses the time to suck at Jordan’s earlobe, press her mouth to the bundle of nerves just below it. It sets him shivering, and he clenches his hands in the meat of her ass in a way that lines them up just right.

“I will drop you,” he murmurs as he pauses just outside of the door to their bedroom and takes her mouth in a thorough, ravenous kiss. She moans into it because holy fuck is Jordan a phenomenal kisser and lets out a yelp when he stumbles forward and presses her into the wall.

“Sorry,” Taylor says and doesn’t actually sound the least bit sorry at all. “You seemed a little distracted.” Yet his hands are trailing down Ryan’s thighs, she can feel the tease of it through her jeans. She rocks her hips reflexively.

Jordan gasps and presses back, thunks his forehead against the wall and says, “You’re a fucking menace.”

“Just trying to get you what you want,” Taylor replies with a wink at Ryan. He presses up the length of Jordan’s back and Ryan can’t stop herself from tangling her hand in his hair to yank him in. He laughs into the kiss and she feels him rock into Jordan by the way Jordan presses into her.

“Fuck,” she breathes and catches Jordan by the hair. “Take me to bed.”

Taylor hums his agreement and steps back just far enough to let Jordan slip out. It’s only a handful of steps before he’s dumping her on the bed and Ryan laughs, giddy.

“Shirt off,” Jordan demands as he reaches for her belt, has it unbuckled and open in a short enough span of time that Ryan is shivering at the demand in his fingers. Her button and fly comes next and he doesn’t bother making a show of yanking her panties down with her jeans. “Ryan.”

“Shirt off,” Taylor reminds her helpfully as he climbs up the bed already naked and half hard. It makes Ryan’s mouth water and it’s distracting enough that Jordan actually growls and reaches to yank her shirt up himself.

“Hey,” she protests, as the band of her bra goes loose around her ribs. She discards that as the shirt comes up over her head. “You’re the one that’s still totally dressed.”

Jordan climbs immediately off the bed and Ryan can’t look away, even as she shuffles up the mattress to the pillows. It’s Taylor that distracts her, pressing his mouth to her collarbone and down until he can take a breast in his mouth. Ryan’s back arches as he tongue circles her nipple, his hand, big and warm against her stomach. She whines when the feeling abruptly stops and looks down to see Jordan’s hand threaded through Taylor’s hair.

“My turn,” he says and Ryan shivers at the possession in his voice. It’s easy to think Taylor’s the demanding one, loud and brash, but here, here it’s Jordan, with filthy ideas and a filthier mouth. And with the absolute knowledge of how to ruin them both. “You sit. It’s your turn to watch.”

Ryan tilts her head back, bares her neck. “I don’t care who’s turn it is, just-”

She cuts herself off on a moan when she feels a mouth on her neglected breast, slides her hand into Jordan’s hair. Her body arches up into his mouth as she holds him there, as he slides his tongue over her nipple, adds a hint of teeth. Her legs spread wider to accommodate the way Jordan makes himself at home between them, knees coming up around his hips. It opens her up and Jordan takes the subconscious hint, sliding a palm over her hip and teasingly down her outer thigh.

Her breath catches when he drags his fingers in at her knee, his palm hot against the thin skin of her inner thigh. He presses her leg out to make room for his hand and Ryan gasps as he teases along the crease of her thigh. It’s echoed by a moan that isn’t hers and isn’t Jordan’s and Ryan looks over to find Taylor, cock in hand.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “Taylor-”

“You’re so hot together,” is what Taylor says, reaching his free hand out and catching Ryan’s fingers in his own. Jordan chooses that moment to slide his fingers through her core. She’s definitely wet, enough that it is a slick slide and she gasps as he brushes against her clit. Her hips shift into it, and her hand clenches in Jordan’s hair. He groans into her breast and the vibrations make her back arch.

“Jordan. Jordan please.”

She sighs and closes her eyes as he slides one finger in. It takes a few thrusts before she’s wet enough for two and he presses his thumb against her clit, draws gentle circles around it as she writhes on his hand.

“That’s it,” he murmurs as he presses kisses up her torso, across her collarbone. Her hips are undulating now, moving with the steady rhythm he’s set up.

“Fuck,” she hears Taylor say, and forces her eyes open. It takes her more than a few beats to figure out that Jordan’s rhythm is Taylor’s rhythm, the way he’s stroking his cock, and it makes her whimper, sucking in a breath as she looks back at Jordan. She clenches her hand in his hair again, tugs until he’s looking her in the eye.

“Fuck me,” she tells him. “Stop teasing. You promised.”

“I did not promise,” Jordan argues, even as he ever so slowly slides his hand from between her thighs. It’s Taylor that reaches out and snags Jordan’s wrist, brings it up to his mouth. The sounds he makes are obscene as he cleans Ryan off of Jordan’s fingers and Ryan arches her hips into the hard length of Jordan, just to try and take the edge off.

“Christ,” Jordan breathes out. “Condom.”

She lets Jordan scramble for the bedside table while she watches Taylor, reaches out to cup his cheek. His eyes are always so, so blue like this, the edges around his dilated pupils. “Taylor.”

There’s the sound of foil ripping as Taylor leans over and takes her mouth in a demanding kiss. They hear Jordan swear as Taylor moves away and presses his lips against her ear.

“When Jordan’s done,” he murmurs into her ear, nipping at the lobe, “When he’s done, Ry, I’m going to fuck you; slide right inside where he’s opened you up, gotten you all soaking wet for us.”

Ryan makes a desperate noise. She always feels selfish when it’s like this, when she’s the only one getting fucked, but Jordan and Taylor have never complained.

“You want that?” Taylor asks low in her ear.

Ryan turns her head, kisses him in answer as she feels Jordan line himself up between her thighs. Of course she wants it; wants them. She wants everything.

It’s why - and she gasps as Jordan slides inside - she’s marrying them.

She’s panting harshly by the time Jordan bottoms out, the slow relentless push of his cock inside her. It has never gotten old, none of it has. There’s still a little bit of awe in the fact that she gets to have this every day, whenever she wants, or, more accurately, whenever they’re all up for it. For a long time she hadn’t been able to believe it. For a long time she hadn’t let herself hope.

And three years later, she’s still breathless at the feel of Jordan inside her, the heat she can feel off of Taylor where she’s reached up to cup his cheek. She has no idea what she sounds like, lost in Jordan and the knowledge that Taylor’s matching their rhythm. She also doesn’t care, not when she can feel Jordan’s arms start to shake, the first telltale sign that he’s riding the edge.

She arches her hips, squeezes him inside and hears his breath stutter. “Fuck Ryan, you can’t-”

She can, she will and she does, watching him shatter with a choked off cry. This never gets old either, the way he collapses on top of her for a moment before nuzzling into her neck. Had she come too, it would be sweet, adoring. Now, now it’s just a tease.

“Jordan,” Taylor manages to croak out desperation in every syllable. “Jordan-”

Jordan groans but manages to pull himself out of Ryan. She mewls, a pathetic noise, because she is close, greedy for it. It takes them too long to get a condom on Taylor and get resituated, Taylor between her thighs this time while Jordan sprawls beside her. She sighs when Taylor pushes right in, wraps her legs easily around his hips and her arms around his neck. Taylor picks up where Jordan had left off, a relentless rhythm that lights her up. It’s so close to enough, but she skims across the edge of it, her back bowing under how much she wants to come.

“Taylor,” she moans, “Taylor, Taylor-”

“I’ve got you.” God, Jordan sounds fucked out, like he does after sucking Taylor off. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

He does, eeling his hand between her body and Taylor’s and pressing just right against her clit. Ryan chokes off a cry as her body lights up, the orgasm forcing her eyes closed as pleasure suffuses her body. She’s panting when she comes back to herself, languid and lazy and Taylor still hard inside her.

“Ry-”

She hums and curls a hand around his neck. “Go ahead,” she murmurs and scratches her nails gently at the top of his spine. “Come on, Taylor.”

Jordan kisses her while Taylor fucks her to his orgasm and Ryan sighs, sensitive but not overly so, willing to take this but not ready to go again herself. Jordan’s kisses are the perfect counterpoint until she has to break away to catch her breath.

“Taylor. You gotta come,” Jordan murmurs and she watches him lean up, press his mouth to Taylor’s shoulder. Ryan takes that as her cue and tugs Taylor down. Where her kiss with Jordan had been languid and wonderful, this is as dirty as she can make it, wet and rough and exactly what Taylor needs if his resulting moan is any indication.

It takes two, three more thrusts before Taylor lets out a groan and goes still above her. She takes his weight easily when he collapses, strokes her hand through his sweaty hair while they all catch their breath. Then Jordan leans up and over, kisses her first before tipping Taylor’s head enough to do the same for him. Ryan sighs, and makes a little noise of regret when Taylor pulls out.

They take turns disposing of the condom and Taylor brings back a cloth to wipe up between her thighs. Ryan sighs and curls around Jordan as he climbs back into bed, wraps her up in his arms. Taylor cuddles up against her back, warm and solid and exactly where she wants him to be.

“You know,” Taylor says after a beat. “They’re going to make bets on whether or not we sneak out of our wedding.” Both Jordan and Ryan laugh, mostly because it’s probably true. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Let them,” Jordan says, and even raises a hand in the air to wave it dismissively. “We’re going to be married.” He leans over Ryan's head to kiss Taylor. “I’m going to have a husband.” He leans down to kiss Ryan. “And a wife.”

Ryan snuggles up close and smiles. She’s going to have two husbands. Damn does she like the sound of that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with us on tumblr at [wonthetrade](wonthetrade.tumblr.com)
> 
> Title from [here](http://hellopoetry.com/poem/542176/polyamorous)


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